


and it’s over and i’m going under, but i’m not giving up i’m just giving in

by goreds



Category: Mad Men
Genre: F/M, Lane's suicide is heavily referenced, also this is all very the ghost and mrs. muir, or blithe spirit, or christmas carol-esque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreds/pseuds/goreds
Summary: Joan Holloway has done just fine without Lane Pryce in her life. But old flames have a tendency of reuniting at the worst of times...
Relationships: Joan Holloway/Lane Pryce
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	and it’s over and i’m going under, but i’m not giving up i’m just giving in

Joan Holloway has a ghost. He’s a gentle, kind ghost, exactly the same as the man he imitates was in life.

Lane Pryce, mild-mannered Financial Chief for Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, who hung himself in his office years ago. He’s been haunting Joan ever since. At first, she just sees glimpses of him in the faces of her fellow New Yorkers, sometimes hears his melodic voice over her shoulder.

When she opens her eyes one morning, she feels his kiss on her lips ever so gently. It puts her in a mood for the rest of the day.

He doesn’t properly appear to her until after Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce is done for good, and she leaves to make her own way in the world. She’s doing well for herself, until _he_ appears, sneering at some sexist pig who’s found himself in _her_ corner office, lecturing Joan on some aspect of the film business.

Joan’s this close to just throwing the asshole out of her office, when she’s stunned to see Lane sitting next to the young man, chuckling to himself. “You should see your face,” he says, nearly cackling.

“Please leave,” she says curtly to the young man. He protests, but she waves him away. The young jackass leaves, leaving Joan and Lane alone. Well, as far as the young man knows, leaving Joan alone.

“Well done, Ms. Holloway.” Lane nearly winks at her. Lane would never be so forward. This is just a hallucination. She’s used to those, these days. “I’m not a hallucination,” are the next words out of his upturned mouth.

“Well then, what the hell are you, Lane?” Joan hisses this as quietly as possible, so her secretary doesn’t think her boss has gone completely mad.

“I’m not sure, actually. I was just thinking about you, somewhere in the ether, and then here I am. But I think about you frequently, dear Joan, so--”

“Don’t. Do. That.” Joan grits her teeth.

“Do what?”

“Call me anything near ‘dear.’ You don’t get to do that to me.”

“To you?”

“You left. You checked out. You _killed_ yourself. The fact I’m even speaking to you right now is something whatever you are should be _grateful_ for. And I still haven’t ruled out that you’re not just a hallucination.”

Lane nods his head, suddenly solemn. “I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I’m sorry I...left so suddenly.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re not Lane, you’re some...approximation of him. If you’re not a hallucination, you’re something my brain is cooking up. Some guilty part of me, or something.”

“Guilty?” He stands and moves over to her, leaning against the desk, his face inches away from hers. “Whatever would you have to be guilty about?”

“We all felt guilty. Felt like we should’ve done more to keep you...keep you around. But we couldn’t have stopped you. None of us could’ve. I know that now.” Joan juts her chin towards the ceiling, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why am I here?”

“I don’t know, Lane. Why the hell _are_ you here?”

“Because I missed you. Because you missed me. I don’t know, maybe some...fated being thought we needed each other in this moment.” He adjusts his glasses, unbroken once more.

Joan glares at him. “There is nothing special about this moment. You’re inconveniencing me, and that is all that’s happening here.”

Lane gazes deeply into her eyes. “Is it, Ms. Holloway?” And he leans in to kiss her. This Lane is much more forward, Joan considers. She puts her hand up to shove him away, but he avoids it and kisses her anyway. Just like that one time in his office. It was a surprise then, and it’s still a surprise now, how _tender_ a kisser Lane is. Joan never believed in British chivalry, but she might make an exception for Lane Pryce.

Lane breaks off the kiss. Joan has to admit to herself that she’s a little taken aback by the kiss. Lane can tell, she knows. “Clearly I’m more than a hallucination if I can do that.”

Joan glowers once more. “A fantasy could do that.”

“My fantasies of you never quite compared to the real thing,” he says sadly.

“Lane...”

“Yes, Ms. Holloway?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Alright, dear Joan.”

“You know, dead Lane is more infuriating than alive Lane ever was.”

“The afterlife does strange things to a man. Or the passage of time does to the memory of a man. Or something.”

“Or something.” Joan almost lets the words drawl out, except she would never drawl. Joan sighs. “So what do I do with you?”

“I could be your personal spirit. Like something out of Dickens or Coward.”

“Very British.”

“I love you, Joan.” This isn’t unprompted, she knows; he always loved her bite, her spunk.

“You _loved_ me. You stopped loving me the second you left me alone. All of us...alone. We needed you.”

“Not as much as I needed to go. You can’t understand...the pain, the loneliness I felt. It was the only way,” he says, nodding at his ridiculous justifications.

So she says so. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would’ve helped you if you had just been honest. If you had told me what was going on. If you hadn’t tried to be Knight Errant. If you had just stopped falling hard for me and treated me like a co-worker.”

“Why couldn’t I do both?” Lane tilts his head to one side.

“Because no one can do both. Don and Peggy certainly couldn’t. Don and Megan couldn’t. Roger and I barely could.”

“And you weren’t even really in love with Roger.”

“I was. Not forever, but I was once upon a time.”

“But it was no fairy tale.” Lane grins at his joke.

Joan rolls her eyes. “This has been enjoyable, but I should get back to work.”

“Joan...”

“What, Lane? What do you want me to say? That I was in love with you? That it was mutual, requited, that we could have--” she stops herself. She’s already gone too far. Even if whatever he is isn’t real.

“I’ll see you around.” Lane gives a little bow, before flashing one of his shy grins. And he’s gone, leaving Joan all alone, in her corner office. She shakes her head, trying to move past the conversation with a ghost, or a hallucination, or a guilt trip, or _whatever_ , but all she can think about is the feeling of his lips on her, and how gentle he was...and she supposes, always will be.


End file.
